


Blood, Metal, Ink

by SeymoreSinn



Category: Deep Dish Nine - Fandom, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Body Modification, Collecting stories, Deep Dish Nine, Freindship, Memories, Religion, Scars, War Stories, heat wave, iced tea, jake is nosey, learning about each other, more to come...probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeymoreSinn/pseuds/SeymoreSinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake stumbles upon the thread of a story. His curiosity leads him on an interesting journey, learning more than he ever suspected (or maybe wanted to know) about his friends.<br/>Old traumas are revealed, religious secrets told and dirty laundry aired.<br/>Various parings implied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired partly by this fic:http://prelocandkanar.livejournal.com/17705.html  
> and this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/101933
> 
> As of right now this has only been spell-checked, not beta-read, as I am new to the fandom and don't have a reader yet.
> 
> Enjoy.

The idea first occurred to Jake during a really bad heat wave.

It was the first week of September and the thermometer went up to 37℃ * and stayed there. He was spending his Saturday morning on the roof of Deep Dish Nine helping Mr. O’Brien fix the air conditioner. (“damn Cardi summer. Damn defective machine.”) Which mostly meant handing him the right tool and listening to him mutter and curse.

Mr. O’Brien was wearing brown cargo shorts and yellow flip-flops, the only visible evidence of the man, in fact. Jake found himself staring at a blurry tattoo on the side of the mechanic’s calf. He had a vague notion that he’d seen something like it before. A hand appeared.

“Blue screwdriver.”

Jake absently supplied the requested item. Then it hit him. “It’s a lizard!”

“What?” Miles voice was muffled under the air-conditioning unit.

“The tattoo on your leg. It’s a lizard, like the one on that patch on your green jacket.”

“Hang on.” He emerged, squirming, from under the AC. “What was that? I couldn’t hear.”

“The thing on your leg. It’s a lizard. You have a patch like that on one of your jackets.”

Miles looked down at his leg, momentarily bewildered. “Wha-oh! Yeah, that. I forget it’s there most of the time.” He paused. “It’s a regnar **.”

“Why do you have a regnar tattooed on your leg?”

Mr. O’Brien was quiet for a long time, staring at his leg but not really seeing it. Jake was beginning to wonder if he’d forgotten the question, when he answered abruptly, “it was the name of my regiment. On the Cardassian front.”

“So…did you all get them?”

Yes,” Miles said slowly. “All of us that were left after…after Setlik. ***”

Shit. “Oh, um…I’m sorry I din’t mean -“

“No it’s fine.” Miles cut him off,hus voice flat and emotionless. “It’s just that I’m not used to talking about it.” With that, he wiggled back under the AC. 

Then there was the longest, most awkward pause of Jake Sisko’s short life. Broken, finally, by another muffled request. 

“Hand me a 5mm socket?”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the first time Jake had stumbled into awkward conversational territory before, not by a long shot, but something about the tattoo and Mr. O’Brien’s reaction stuck in his head. Later, while he was studying with Ziyal, he wondered (out loud and apropos of nothing) “Why do people get tattoos about stuff that makes them unhappy?”

She looked up from her calculus notes and frowned, absolutely confused. “Where did that come from?”

Jake explained.

Ziyal frowned again, thoughtfully this time. “Jake,” she said carefully. “Tell me about that scar on your arm.”

Jake’s eyes widened a little. “I thought I told you about that?”

She smiled, scrunching up her nose in that totally adorable way. She reached out and touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Tell me again.”

His checks got warm. “Ok. Um…well, my house burned down. When I was a kid. Maybe, like ten - no! Eleven years old. My mom and I were in it, the house I mean and…she - she didn’t make it. But my dad came home right as the fire department arrived. He ran in and got me out. The scar is from that fire.”

“So that scar is a story.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

“Then maybe,” she said, slowly, slowly, leading him forward. “A tattoo is like a scar. But it’s for a story that doesn’t leave a physical trace.”

He chewed on that thought, “That’s…interesting.” Then he narrowed his eyes at her. Scrutinizing her face.

Her pale cheeks colored, “what?” She half laughed the question.

He reached out, touched the bar piercing on the bridge of her nose. “Are your piercings the same then?” He reached to the left and touched her earring. “What’s the story behind these?”

“Oh!” Her blush deepened, eyes cast down. “That’s…different. This is religious.”

“I know, but there is a story about it right? I remember talking about it in World Religions. The story of Leerah and the Prophets, right.”

“Jake,” Ziyal sounded embarrassed, and turned her head aside.“It’s not something we talk about it with…”

“Nonbelievers?” He smiled to take any sting from the word.

“Well…yes.” She smiled back. “Maybe if you ask a vedek?”

An idea was taking shape in Jake’s mind. “Maybe…”

 

* * *

 

In the end, he didn’t ask a vedek. He just asked everybody else. Because if scars and tattoos and piercings were stories, then he had a responsibility (as a future journalist, understand) to collect them.

The only hard part was figuring out how to get them all to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * approx 97 degrees F, because I hate having to do metric conversions in my head while I read.
> 
> ** a small, blind, chameleon-like lizard, native to Cardassia
> 
> *** see TNG episode 4x12 "The Wounded"


	2. Those Troublesome Trill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jake starts snooping...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, I know. But I do my own proofreading, which - as I am mildly dyslexic - is a *really* slow process. Anyway, enjoy.

He started with the easiest marks first, the Dax sisters were nothing if not talkative.

He found them the next day in the prep kitchen. Ezri up to her elbows in tomatoes, chopping and seeding and peeling for sauce (no canned tomatoes in a Sisko kitchen!) Jadzia sautéing onions and garlic in huge pans. Even though it was only around 10 AM it was absurdly hot, even with the back door open and all the fans running. The two unhappy Trill sweating and flushed in rolled up sleeves.

It was the perfect set up.

Jake swung through the door with a big insulated plastic jug. “Hey guys! Iced Tarkalean tea?”

Ezri’s face lit up. “Jake! You’re a life saver!”

Jadzia wiped the sweat off her forehead with the hem of her apron. “My hero!”

Jake got down some cups and filled them with ice while the sisters took turns washing their hands and Jadzia shut off the range.

He passed a sweet, sweating tumbler to Ezri, then Jadzia, before pouring his own. It was quiet between them for a few minutes as they guzzled their drinks, Jake poured another round.

“So…” he began, deliberately casual. “I was wondering if you guys could tell me something.”

Jadzia looked at him seriously over the rim of her glass. “We don’t know anything about Bajoran religion.”

Jake stared at her.

Ezri giggled into her glass.

“Wait, how did you -“

“We were hanging out with Kira last night. Ziyal texted her asking if it was ok to talk about the Prophets to an unbeliever if they were your boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Jake felt more than a little deflated, then puffed up again for a moment. “What’d she say?”

Jadzia rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. Jake felt that fragile hope-bubble burst and he deflated again.

“But you know Jake,” Ezri said. “If you want to know about cultural body modifications, there are other people you can ask.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

He looked at her, then Jadzia, then back to Ezri. “You two?”

They laughed.

“Jake!” Jadzia exclaimed, “how do you think a Trill gets their spots?”

He grinned at her, “did Kipling write that?”

Ezri snorted Tarkalian tea through her nose.


	3. How the Trill Get Their Spots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And a little Trill mythology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following reflects the fact that I read *a lot* of folklore.
> 
> The idea of a "pearl of the soul of the world," however, comes from the really excellent Darkangel Trilology by Meredith Anne Pierce. Which you should def check out if you are into YA.

“In the beginning, all the world was ice. All the Heavens were unrelenting black, spangled with a thousand, thousand points of jeweled light.

“And the Sun, Queen of these stars looked down upon this icy plain and saw nothing to shine her warming light upon. ‘This place is harsh and vast. It is barren, and so am I.’

“The Moon, humble sister to the queen heard this cry and said, ‘my sister! Do not despair. If there is nothing here to please you, we might find it, you and I. Let us go and see.’

“So the Sun and Moon stretched out their hands, calling all the stars in the Heavens to them. Using their joined power to create a shining bridge that led down into the white plains of ice. They stood together in this place and looked for something with which to build all a world, worthy of it’s bright caretakers.

“They searched for a long time, but found nothing. All was pathless white bellow and fathomless black above, bisected by the Star Bridge, which we also call the Milky Way.

“Once again the Sun Queen cried, ‘there is nothing! There is nothing here to build upon.’

“The Moon replied, ‘so there is nothing here above. What of bellow? Use your shining heat, beloved sister. Drive away the cold! Let us see what lies beneath.’

“Once more the Sun stretched out her hands and shone with mighty splendor upon the ice. Slowly, slowly, it began to melt away, unleashing great waters. She chased the ice from the plains and valleys, up, up to the mountain peaks. She was content to let the ice abide high above the floor of the world. The waters flowed away, and completely filled the deepest valleys. And so the rivers and lakes were made, and the lands of great glaciers and high mountains. Yet, there was nothing living here. Only earth and stone and sweet waters. Still, they were alone.

“The Sun gave a great cry, and began to weep. The force of her grief shook a handful of stars loose from the Bridge across the sky, they plummeted down into the waters. The Sun Queen’s tears ran like a river, washing the bitterness of her sorrow into the largest of the lakes filling it higher, creating a great ocean. That is why all the seas of the world are salt, and why we shed tears in grief as she did.

“The Moon, mourned for her sister’s pain. She had seen the stars fall to the sea, and thought to find one in hopes of comforting her. She stretched out her hands and parted the waters. Seeking, seeking…until she found a single pearl lying in the mud.

“She brought it forth into the air and held it up to the Sun’s light. The pearl warmed in her hands and…

“It cracked!

“It fell into two pieces, like the shell of an egg. From within, unfurled a shining being. A long pearly ribbon-worm that flashed a rainbow of color. Wherever the color touched, things began to grow. Where green light fell, plants grew. Blue light streaked across the heavens and colored the whole of the sky. Red and orange and yellow and purple became flowers and feathered birds and shoals of fish.

“The Sun and Moon were in awe of what they had found, what was this creature of color and light?

“Then within their minds they heard a voice, resonant and serene. ‘I am the Soul. The Soul of the World. I am all the color of Life. I am born of the stars. The child of love and compassion and light. Seek my companions!’

“So the Moon once again parted the waters of the sea and brought up all the pearls they could find. Once in the air and light, they too broke open and birthed more of the strange creatures. They flew up and joined together. From this union were born the first Trill. The singing, dancing Children of the Souls of the World, Born of the Stars.

“The Sun and Moon looked upon them these new Children in wonder. They agreed between them to watch over them and protect them. Dividing Time itself between them, into Day and Night, that one of those divine sisters would forever be on watch above them.

“As they grew and multiplied these Children also learned the nature of Time. For every soul that was born, must also someday die. These souls went up to the Heavens from which they began, but so to some also came back to the World. To seek again a place within it.

“This is our legacy. We are the Children of the Souls of the World, Born of the Stars.

“This is why we mark ourselves with the patterns of Heaven. Each Trill, at the age of Understanding, begins the tattoo that shall be added to, and built upon until they leave the body behind.

“This is also why those chosen among us Join themselves with bodiless Souls. Those who have returned from the Bridge of Stars.

“But that, is another story.”


End file.
